Open Post: Great Hall

[courageous_wit]

[When the students enter the Great Hall today, they will see it decked out in black and yellow banners, with the Hufflepuff badger in prominent display. There are also a few model badgers that are moving around

The house-elves went all out in the food, serving Hufflepuff lots of cakes and cookies and other delicious treats.

Although you are divided by your houses, it's such a great party that you can visit your friends and butt into other house conversations!]

[Gryffindor | Ravenclaw | Hufflepuff | Slytherin | staff table]

Comments

[molotov]

[Molotov is at his side, refusing to eat any of this disgusting badger food. In fact, she grabs a house elf by the tea-towel as it passes, and barks at it.]

Get me an espresso now, and it had better be black as night, or I will make sure you are given a sock for every day you have been alive.

[assassino]

Molotov, do not take it out on the help.

[molotov]

[The house elf scurries off, and Molotov makes a dismissive noise.]

They are part of the problem. This whole spectacle is ridiculous. You know there would not be snakes in here if we'd have won.

[assassino]

It is not their fault that our house is so... misunderstood.

[molotov]

[Another dismissive noise. She knows he's right, and that she's just being pouty, but this is her only way of acknowledging it.]

It is still their job to bring us things. Like espresso.

[assassino]

I know, I know.

[He sighs.]

Why do terrible things like this happen?

[molotov]

Lack of anything resembling a just god?

[samson]

[Brock strolls past, sneering a little.] You guys are like the worst sore losers in the world.

[assassino]

[Oh, it's BROCK. It's impossible for Ezio to feel riled by that when he's got Molotov, in the end, and Brock doesn't.]

Good thing we are the victors in other subjects, then.

[samson]

In what, being creepy? Yeah, I'm real jealous that you get to live in the dungeons.

[assassino]

[Ezio grins.]

At least we keep each other warm down there.

[He places a hand on Molotov's inner thigh :')]

[molotov]

[MOLOTOV JUST LOOKS CAUGHT BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE. Her expression is mildly apologetic even as she leans into Ezio, resting her head on his shoulder.]

Better to be a sore loser in the dungeons than a Gryffindor any day.

[samson]

[Fuck your mild apologetic looks, Brock is now sneering in earnest and decidedly ignoring Molotov altogether.] Yeah, I'm gonna go throw up now. 'scuse me.

[Because he is aware he will actually beat the shit out of Ezio if he keeps standing there!!! So he starts to lumber off.]

[assassino]

[Ezio turns to Molotov, and says loudly enough that he's sure Brock will hear it:]

I didn't win the cup for Slytherin, but at least I won you.

[molotov]

[Molotov gives Ezio a glare, reaching out to pinch his cheek roughly.]

Don't gloat.

[samson]

[Is that Brock stopping further down the aisle? Are his shoulders very stiff and squared like he is considering a fight or execute beating reaponse? And is that Brock suddenly turning back around and charging back up the aisle like a fucking train?

Yes to all these things.

He launches himself at Ezio, tackling him onto the table and immediately throwing punches. The Hogwarts Express has pulled into the station, asshole.]

[assassino]

[Let Ezio go down in history as the dumbest teenage boy known to mankind. He barely has an arm up before Brock is hailing down on him like a psychotic anthropomorphic locomotive, and Ezio immediately thinks that he would prefer jumping in front of an actual train to this.

Why did he do it? Why did he think it was a good idea?

But he is an Auditore, and Auditore are fighters, so he's not going down without a fight. At least a little bit of one, because you can't fight back much against a train.

This is Ezio yelling, trying and failing to fend off the punches with one arm, and using the other to attempt to stab Brock in the eyes with his fingers. He would kick out, but his legs are trapped under the table courtesy the bench, and that's why you never want to be jumped at the dinner table.]

[molotov]

[For a moment, it's like everything moves in slow motion, and Molotov can't do anything to stop exactly what she thought might happen. In fact, she's hard-pressed to do much of anything except shriek and dodge the boys falling. Once she gathers her wits, she stands to try and pull them apart, her hands wound in the back of Brock's robes as she yanks with all her strength.]

Samson, stop it, stop it! Stop fighting!

[samson]

[Ave Maria playing gently in the background as the train -- I mean, Brock -- pummels Ezio's dumb face in slow motion, his enraged roaring lowered in pitch as dishes clatter slowly, dramatically, all around them.

But really he's just punching the hell out of him. He grabs Ezio's hand and attempts to break it at the wrist, because he doesn't really want to have his eyes poked out, but whether Molotov distracted him before he managed to break bone, he doesn't know. It's hard to focus on that many (two...) things at once when he's like this.]

Get the hell off me! [He glares at her over his shoulder, ugh!!]

[assassino]

[Ezio is feeling woozy. This shit is happening fast enough that he doesn't really even feel the pain, he just feels light-headed and maybe like his hand went missing. When Brock stops, though, and he manages to blearily look at his wrist and sees the bloody mess down his front, the pain hits him like a train and he thinks:

Oh.

Should not have done that.

And then he slumps over, cold.]

[molotov]

[Molotov had been preparing to scream at Brock, as obviously this was his insane fault. But as she opens her mouth, she sees Ezio fall over like a ragdoll, and she just releases to Brock to rush over, helplessly trying to figure out what to do and how to help.]

[samson]

[Brock grunts when Ezio slumps over, then steps back and like... casually wipes all this blood on his hands off on his robes. Gross.]

[assassino]

[Paging Dr. House to the Great Hall, paging Dr. House...]